


A Field of Stars

by TheCorrosivePen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cannonish, F/M, It's the end of the world folks, Nightblood lives on, Post Season 4 Episode 8 : God Complex, a touch of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCorrosivePen/pseuds/TheCorrosivePen
Summary: Clarke leaves the island to prevent Jasper's rebellion against salvation, but her path is not so clear.“Jasper is determined to party until the end of the world.”“Ah.”What is the price of salvation and is it truly worth it? Bellamy and Clarke must decide for themselves.“Why?”“I bear it so they don’t have to…”“Clarke,” her name was a curse and a prayer on his lips. His hand swept across her skin again, leaving a wake of heat in its path. “This was too much.”Complete!





	1. A Departure

**Author's Note:**

> So I've come to the conclusion that to write real Cannon Bellarke you have to drown in the angst. I've tried to be faithful to their characterization while also giving them more of a push to the romantic than others might see. That said, I think the bond that exists between Clarke and Bellamy now on the show (season 4) is so vast and important to each of them, that regardless of the romance side, what exists between them can never be played down or denied (not saying it has to be romantic).
> 
> Anyhoo, this came out after episode 8 and while we wait for 9. Still working on a larger Bellarke AU that will likely come this summer.

The gray clouds loomed beyond the shore, the threat of rain growing stronger by the minute. Clarke sucked in a deep breath and secured the final fastening on the suit Raven had deemed black rain proof. The mechanic stared sullenly back at her, her hands flexing around air.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke.” Her simmering anger from the bone marrow experiment had faded in the last twenty-four hours, leaving her bronzed skin sallow and her eyes defeated. Clarke had no idea what to say. She hated herself for becoming Cage, for not even noticing until Dante’s weathered eyes flashed before her. She hated leaving her mother and Raven, strokes still a constant risk, to coordinate directly with Kane and Jaha in Polis.

She swallowed heavily, shaking her head, pushing away the doubts. “The last transmission we got from Arcadia confirmed they need the help.”

Clarke could still hear the growing panic in Miller’s dad’s voice as he explained the stand off currently brewing at the Arc. Jasper, volatile fucking Jasper, was currently leading a revolt against salvation. She understood his aversion to becoming trapped in yet another bunker, but she could hardly leave Arcadia to itself, not when so many of those behind the doors were her people, her hundred. Their numbers had dwindled and while Clarke had moved on to greater visions of what people she needed to save, she wouldn’t leave the hundred, not this time.

Roan shifted beside Raven, his features clearly displaying his dislike of her current decision. “They don’t want to be saved,” he murmured, softly, but with a quiet power that belonged only to him. “Let them be and save those who want to be saved.”

He was right, of course. She should pull of the suit and help with the final preparations for their move to Polis. But Bellamy, Jasper, and Harper were still in Arcadia and she was damned if she wasn’t going to finish this with all of them at her side. So she squared her shoulders and pulled the pack onto her back, the weight heavy against her soul.

“I’m going.” She didn’t bother arguing. “I’ll meet you in Polis in 4 days, maybe more.”

Raven’s lips twisted further down. “We have six days at most. Don’t cut it too damn close.”

Clarke nodded. “I won’t, I promise.” She turned her stare to Roan. Her captor, enemy, friend, pillar of strength. She had no idea what their relationship was and she didn’t care to label it. He had kept her from the darkness and held her hand through it enough times she trusted him. Trusted him with the fate of humanity.

He gave her a small nod, acceptance of her choice. “May we meet again.”

Clarke startled, his face contorting a moment into Lexa’s. The words caressing her across space and time. And then he was clear, simply Roan, King of Azgeda, staring back at her. She nodded.

The situation in Polis was tenuous at best, the stalemate between the Azgeda and Trikru paralyzing the city. She prayed Roan would find a way to work with Kane and Jaha to bring the clans together, but she also knew Roan would do what he must, regardless of the others. Once that would have been enough to make her stay, make her keep fighting. Now, though, she trusted him to limit the bloodshed, to make the best of the hard calls.

Somehow between her first abduction and their last terrible decision, he had become her rock. Not like Bellamy, her long time partner was her moral compass, her vision through the gray, her strength when she had none. Roan pushed her, gave her no moment for weakness, forced her to become the leader Lexa had always desired. So she let him, held to him through the storm. He would keep their people alive and that was all she had left to ask.

With one last lingering glance Roan stepped away from the lobby, Abby taking his place. Her eyes were gleaming, tear tracks already smudged against her sullen cheeks. Clarke’s heart twisted, the pressure almost too much to bear. She tried to memorize her mother’s features. Abby stepped forward, her arms consuming Clarke, suit and all.

“I should come with you.” It wasn’t a request. They’d already had this conversation and Clarke had no interest feeling her heart torn in two again.

“Marcus needs you. They all need you.” She nodded to herself. “You’ll make a bigger impact in Polis than Arcadia. And anyway, I’ll see you in just a few days.”

It felt like a lie, dirty on her tongue. Clarke willed herself to believe the words, to make her eyes shine with hope. Her mother would be essential to the survival of the bunker residents and Clarke was unwilling to take her away from that duty.

Everything had changed the minute she put the needle into her own arm. Their survival mattered more than her own. She had saved her people over and over again, never truly sacrificing herself. Clarke was done hiding, done pulling levers that left nothing but nightmares behind. She would save her people, no matter the cost this time.

Her mother’s grip tightened, as if she could sense the cold determination welling within her daughter. “I’ll see you soon,” Abby murmured before stepping away, her eyes painted in a sorrow that wore at Clarke’s soul, or whatever was left of it.

There were no more goodbyes. Murphy and Emori still looked at her with nothing but distrust in their eyes and Clarke could hardly blame them. She could hardly believe what she’d done to them. Bile rose in her throat as she remembered Murphy simmering rage. She was not Cage Wallace. Turning back to the storm brewing across the water, she pulled on her helmet and secured it to the suit. The rush of oxygen was a cold whisper against her skin.

The trek to the boat was peaceful, the drones offline. The boat itself was unchanged, having silently waited for a return passenger. Though she had little experience piloting the craft, the waters were calm and she reached the other side before the storm broke.

The rover was waiting at the dock, its headlights shining brightly against the gloom. Two guardsmen were supposed to meet her at the rendezvous spot. One would return the boat to the island and help her mother journey to Polis. The other would return the rover to camp with Clarke.

Thunder crackled against the distant mountains as she hurriedly secured the boat to the makeshift moorings. As lightning flashed across the valley, she jogged to the rover, the back door opening for her to hop inside. The rain hadn’t yet started to fall, but she wasn’t taking any risks. She only had two spare suits packed in her bag and although they’d checked them for leaks, she didn’t want the returning guard to have to navigate through the potentially fatal rain.

The doors clanged shut behind her and a breath of relief escaped her lips. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness, but she recognized him instantly.

“Bellamy?” Her voice was tentative, fragile. This hadn’t been the plan.

Clarke could hear him swallow, his breath filling the space between them. She hadn’t been sure, not matter what she’d said, that they’d have this moment. She reached out blindly, grabbing hold of him and pulling him closer. The suit stifled the warm of him, but he was here, safe.

For several long minutes they clung to each other, unable to do anything but breathe. Finally, Bellamy shifted away from her, clearing his throat. “You should get out of the suit for now.” His eyes flicked toward the driver’s seat. “Ed needs to take the boat across the island.”

Clarke took a shuddering breath. Right. They didn’t have time for this. The storm was coming and she was going to be damned if another one of their people died in the black rain. She pulled out the large extra suit and offered it to the older man sitting in the front of the rover. “We checked for leaks, so it should be good. The coordinates to the island are on board the boat and once you get within sight, just head for the beacon.”

Raven’s smart thinking of course. Clarke’s head ached as she through of the tenacious mechanic. The seizures had been getting worse within the last twenty four hours and Clarke had no idea if Raven or her mother would reach Polis. She bit her lips, using the sudden pain to pull herself back. Ed grabbed the suit from her and motioned for Bellamy to head back into the rover cockpit as they changed.

The cool material slid off her like water and finally she could feel the air moving against her skin. The clean clothes she’d put on that morning were damp, but still smelled like lavender. Clarke stuffed her suit into the pack before hauling it up to the front compartment as she joined Bellamy.

The lighting was better here and she could clearly see the dark circles beneath his eyes. As if sensing her gaze, he shifted, eyes tracing her features. His eyes had been haunted for so long she could barely remember him without the aura of guilt. Maybe that first day on the ground, but even then Jaha had haunted him. Now, now there was no end to that burden, no light within his deep brown irises. She swallowed thickly, turning away, not wanting to know what he saw on her face.

The back of the rover swung open as Ed hopped down, fully suited. Both Clarke and Bellamy turned to watch him. He gave a thumps up that made her stomach turn before the door clanged shut, echoing in the space between them. Neither spoke as they watched him power up the boat and speed out across the churning gray waters. The silence stretched between them until the boat was a mere dot on the horizon.

Bellamy powered up the rover, its engine a comforting hum against her skin. His eyes danced across her face for a long moment before he turned forward. “To Arcadia?”

Clarke nodded, her tongue still too thick. She concentrated on the forest, bright green streaks of life racing by. Kane had told her mother about the black rain, about their losses, but Clarke didn’t want to imagine what it had been like. Black blood seeped across her vision and her breathing hitched. She dug her fingernails into the seat beneath her and prayed Bellamy was too busy driving to notice.

“What didn’t Abby tell us?”

Her eyes snapped closed against his question. She should have known better. There were no secrets between them, not anymore. Finally, she dragged her gaze to meet his. There was no judgment there, not for months now, just a promise. She squared her shoulders and looked away, unable to accept his forgiveness.

“Emori lied about the man we caught breaking in.” She bit her lip again, a new trail of dark blood washing across her tongue. “He was an innocent, but we…” she cut off. They’d done so much, perpetrated such horror, and still the thought of what they’d done, what she’d nearly agreed to was enough to turn her stomach. His hand found her knee, squeezing gently. She swallowed, pushing words past her horror. “We killed him anyway. We thought it had worked and then, suddenly, he was cooking from the inside out, black blood exploding everywhere.”

Clarke slid her gaze to his face, but Bellamy was looking at the trees, navigating the rover along the uneven path. “Then my mother realized there was a modification we hadn’t tried. So she fixed the bone marrow, but only after we knocked Luna out and took more.” Her voice was nothing more than a ragged whisper. “We took it, just like they did in Mount Weather. We strapped her down and we told ourselves it was for the greater good.”

“I’m pretty sure survival has nothing to do with the greater good.” He spoke softly, but the pain behind the words seeped into her.

He was right, of course. They’d left good, greater or otherwise, behind long ago. “When we figured out it was Emori who’d tricked us, we locked her up with John and then tied her down. It was worse than Cage, Bellamy, so much worse.” She paused, the words heavy on her tongue. “My mother couldn’t do it, so I decided I would spare her the burden… but, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to her, so I injected myself.”

Bellamy’s eyes snapped toward her, pupils blown wide. The rover sputtered to a stop. His hand grasped her face, turning it toward him as his eyes traced every detail. They froze when they came to her lips, black blood still oozing. His thumb, burning against her skin, swept across her bottom lip. A smear of black stained it as he pulled away. His throat worked silently before he finally stared at her, his dark eyes burning with something that made her heart ache. “Why?”

“I bear it so they don’t have to…”

“Clarke,” her name was a curse and a prayer on his lips. His hand swept across her skin again, leaving a wake of heat in its path. “This was too much.”

She could feel water pooling behind her eyes, threatening to fall if she blinked. “I’ve done so much killing, it was time for it to stop.” She concentrated on the feel of his hand combing through her hair. “My mother wouldn’t let me test it, she was so sure it would fail because of what she’d seen during a stroke.”

“And you?” Bellamy murmured, the words barely carrying above the hum of the engine.

She pulled his hand from her hair, her eyes tracing the black against the warm hue of his skin. “I don’t know. The modification might have been enough, but we aren’t going to test it, even if the radiation chamber could be repaired.”

He accepted her answer, but left his hand resting on her knee as the rover pulled forward yet again. She spent the rest of the trip feeling the brand of his heat as she watched the world fall apart.


	2. An Observation and a Decision

 

The gates of Arcadia looked the same as always, but where before there had been children playing and Arcadians wandering about, there was only mud. The bay doors opened for the rover without any prompting, the guard was still operating, and Bellamy drove to the usual spot, jumping down from the rover and heading around to Clarke’s door before she could process that they’d arrived. The bay was quieter than she remembered, barely a person in sight.

“Where…?” She trailed off as Bellamy held out a hand to help her down.

He swung her pack over his back and motioned toward the main hallway. “You’ll see.”

She waited for Bellamy to plug one of the auxiliary power units into the rover before he slid past her, walking swiftly toward the passageway. “How much did your mother tell you?”

“No much,” Clarke admitted, eyes tracing the empty hall. “Just that there was a section of Arcadia that had been taken over by people who didn’t want to join the bunker in Polis. She didn’t seem to know any more details.”

“So Kane didn’t tell her,” Bellamy murmured, taking a left toward the part of the station that had housed her quarters, and his now that she thought about it. “It isn’t just some people, Clarke. It’s Jasper and Harper and the others who came down here with us.”

Clarke stopped dead. “What?”

“It’s not some people. It’s our friends.” The corridor was dark, but she could see the gleam of his dark eyes.

She took a steadying breath. “And what exactly do you make of the situation?”

“I can see where they’re coming from…” he paused, a hand running through his discordant curls. “But I’m not about to join them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Some of the tension eased from her body. She hadn’t been prepared for that fight, not with him. “So what am I supposed to do?”

He shrugged, turning back down the hallway. She followed, noting the tension in his broad frame increasing with each step they took. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Bellamy glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flashing. “Nothing that would make a difference.” She continued to stare at him, willing the truth to fall from his lips. An exasperated sigh rushed out of him as he paused, facing her. “Full disclosure? I may have had some Jobi nut tea with Jasper last night and woken up somewhere I’d never been before.”

Clarke was torn between scowling and laughing. “And how exactly does this have to do with not wanting to go to Polis?”

“Jasper is determined to party until the end of the world.”

“Ah”

“Yeah.” He turned away, a hand massaging his neck. Her gaze traveled down his frame to her pack secured on his back.

“Could we put my pack away before we talk to them? There are supplies in there I’d rather not have drunk or high teenagers rummaging around.”

“Sure,” he nodded to a door down the hall. His, if she remembered correctly. He slid the door open manually, quietly noting they tried to conserve power where they could. His guard jacket was flung over his bed as Clarke took inventory of his room. She’d been here before, between missions, but she’d never taken the time notice how much he didn’t have. A few books sat on a crate by his bed and some clothes hung over the chair by the small desk, but otherwise it was empty.

“Not exactly home,” she murmured. His gaze slid toward her from where he stood by the bed. His eyes were haunted yet again and she regretted saying anything.

Turning away from her, he led them back into the passageway. “I’m not exactly sure how sober Jasper’s going to be, so be prepared for anything.”

She nodded. “What exactly am I trying to convince him of exactly?”

Bellamy shrugged again, his broad shoulders pulling against his worn teeshirt. “Something like bunker living is worth it.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed as she studied his back. “You don’t actually think I’m going to be able to do anything.”

He kept moving down the hall. “I didn’t say that.”

“No,” she admitted, “But you damn well think that.”

Sighing, he turned to face her. “Look, Clarke, there are worse things than dying. I am not be joining them, but I can understand how they think life in a bunker isn’t worth it.”

Something about his words, the tilt of his chin and the flash of his eyes had her reeling. He wasn’t just talking about Jasper. “Bellamy…”

“I know where she is, Clarke.”

Clarke’s chest shuddered, her breath knocked out of her. There was no doubt as to the she he spoke of. “Where?”

“West, in a small village.”

“How?” She could barely breathe even now. If he knew where Octavia was, there was no stopping him. There was no Bellamy following her to Polis. There was no… she couldn’t think it, couldn’t even imagine it.

He stepped closer, his eyes begging forgiveness. “I kept asking until one Trikru villager said he’d seen a girl and a boy on a horse heading west.”

“When?”

He didn’t need her to clarify the question. “As soon as you’ve talked to Jasper.”

Her world was crashing down around her and she couldn’t let it fall. Clarke forced air through her lungs, squaring her shoulders. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time at all.

“Later,” she snapped, the word harsh in the quiet corridor. His eyes flashed with steel, but Clarke didn’t care. “Just take me to, Jasper.”

Bellamy turned on his heel and they made the rest of the way shrouded in silence, the only sound the echo of their boots on the grated floor.

 

~*~

 

Clarke heard the music before they turned the bend. It was loud, thrumming through her veins as the bass vibrated the walls. The glass safety doors were closed, but they slid open as they approached.

Jasper waded through the crowd, a tin up held high above his head, “Her highness has returned!” The words felt as dirty as he’d meant them to be. Jasper scanned Bellamy, his eyes lingering on the empty gun holster at his thigh. “Have you come to join the fun or just rain on our parade.” He giggled, the sound grating. “Rain, heh, you get it?”

Bellamy’s eyes darkened as he pulled the drink from Jasper’s hand. “That’s enough for now.”

Clarke scanned the crowd, breath catching as she noticed Niylah behind the bar. Bellamy and Jasper were still exchanging words beside her as she drifted through the crowd to Niylah’s side. The blonde swept an apprising gaze over Clarke as she passed out another drink to girl with vibrant chestnut hair.

“Not exactly where I’d expect you to be on the eve of the apocalypse,” she murmured, filling another tin can from the counter.

Clarke eyed the crowd, familiar faces jumping out like popcorn. More than half the remaining hundred were here she realized, a lead weight settling on her chest. She looked back at Niylah. “Any reason you’ve chosen to stay?”

“Not exactly a fan of cold dark places, especially ones where I’ll spend the rest of my life.” She turned fully to Clarke. “Don’t expect them to change their mind.”

Bellamy sidled up to her before she could craft a response. “I don’t think Jasper’s in the right frame of mind right now,” he murmured, his breath heating her neck. She twisted to look at him. His face was more relaxed than she’d seen it in a long while and where she’d expected disaster after Jasper comments, Bellamy looked calm. His eyes were unfathomable as they stared back at her.

Soft laughter echoed behind her before a blonde she’d never noticed before barreled into them. “Oops,” the girl giggled looking up. A grin spread across her face as she took in Bellamy’s features. “Hello again,” she murmured, her smile turning sultry.

Clarke couldn’t help the jolt that ran down her spine or the bile threatening to fill her mouth. Niylah’s eyes narrowed and Clarke turned away from her. The girl was now leaning toward Bellamy, her slight frame sliding past Clarke in the process. Gritting her teeth, she looked up at Bellamy, expecting perhaps amusement or anticipation. Neither were present as he eyes widened and he took a wide step around the girl.

“Layla.” His voice wasn’t exactly gruff, but Clarke could tell he wasn’t trilled to have new company.

She smiled up at him, her eyes glazed and pupils dilated. Clarke lips tugged into a frown as she realized Layla must be high, drunk or something else entirely. Bellamy seemed to come to the same conclusion as she swayed toward him again. Another girl, the one with the blazing chestnut hair, appeared out of the crowd and suddenly Layla was lost to the masses as she was led back into the melee.

Clarke slid her gaze to Bellamy, who was now boring a hole in the counter beside Niylah’s hands. “I suppose Jobi nuts wasn’t the only thing you did that night.”

His throat worked for a moment before he muttered, “Apparently not.”

Clarke shifted, looking past him. The bout of nausea that had followed Layla’s appearance was confusing and she didn’t want to dwell on it any longer than necessary. “If we asked them while they were sober, do you think they would come?”

Niylah’s brow creased as she surveyed the writhing masses. “Some perhaps, but not many. I have heard many stories of your life on the Arc. They do not wish to go back to such an existence.”

Bellamy nodded, his expression cleared of whatever Layla had left in her wake. “My thoughts too.”

Panic welled up within Clarke. “We can’t just leave them here to die.”

“We can’t force them to live,” Bellamy countered, his eyes darker than ever.

Clarke looked out again, her gaze falling on Harper. “But some of them have someone to live for, with…”

Niylah followed her stare. “Agreed, but there are few like Harper with a partner outside this room. It would be best, I think, if you left the talking to me.”

It shouldn’t have hurt so much. But Clarke knew how they saw her, knew that as much as she wanted to help, to save them, her words would be no better than acid rain. She had clung to hope for the greater good for too long, put names on lists and stuck needles in arms. She was done being a tyrant to save the world, so she nodded silently to Niylah and pulled her close. Her friend’s hair smelled of roses and freedom. Throat tightening, she turned away and headed for the doors. Clarke could feel Bellamy a step behind her, a balm against the wound.

When the door slid shut behind them, he murmured quietly, “Harper will leave to join Monty.”

One saved, so many left to burn. Clarke forced her dry throat to swallow. “So what now?”

She couldn’t imagine returning to Polis with only the guards and Harper at her side. Those willing to make the trek to Polis had departed the day before, hoping to miss the brewing storm. She wanted to tear back into that dance hall and scream herself hoarse until they understood what they were giving up. It wasn’t going to be a kind death this time. The radiation poisoning was unyielding in its horror and Clarke could hardly begin to imagine all those familiar faces covered in oozing sores and putrid death. She wanted to scream and rage and change the world, but she’d spent enough time on the ground to know some things didn’t have solutions.

As if sensing her inner typhoon, Bellamy stepped closer. “You did the best you could.”

Clarke shook her head, teeth grinding. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t go in there and tell them what their fate was. At least try to save them… I just let Niylah tell me to walk away.”

A laden sigh escaped his full lips. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

His words sent terror sizzling down her spine. She glanced up at his weary face, his eyes wide as they bored into her. Did he want to be saved? Her chest tightened painfully. Clarke looked away from him, knowing the answer without asking the question.

“You need to leave with the remainder of the guard if you’re going to get there on time. The last two rovers are prepped and charged. We still need to load some supplies, but you should be in Polis before noon tomorrow.”

They paused as he slid his door open to retrieve her pack. “And you, where are you going?”

He didn’t look at her as he lifted the heavy backpack off the bed. “The second rover, the one we came in, hasn’t been packed for Polis. I’ll take it West.”

“Alone.”

He didn’t respond as he pulled a pack of his own from under the bare cot. Her stomach twisted into knots as she watched him shove his remaining clothes into the pack. He eyed the books sitting on the crate for a moment before grabbing one. Then he was piling extra bullets followed by a small med pack what would do nothing against the radiation. Running a hand through his disheveled curls, his eyes finally caught hers. The warm brown was burning now, aching for her to understand.

“Let me come with you.”

“What?” His eyes shuttered for a moment, the warmth draining out of them. “No. You have a duty to do, let me do mine.” His mouth twisted as his jaw worked, muscles twitching. “I am not sentencing you to death.”

“It’s my choice!” she insisted. “You let all of them decide to stay here. You can’t make me go to Polis either.”

“Your mother is waiting for you there, your family is there,” he argued, a vein thumbing at his temple. She hadn’t seen him this upset since before Pike killed Lincoln and his world fell apart under his feet.

“You,” she stabbed at him with her finger, ”are my family too. I am not letting you do this alone.”

Bellamy went suddenly still. His eyes were blown wide as he stared down at her. The tension in his jaw abated as he held her gaze. She willed him to understand, to accept that she would not leave him, not again.

“I can’t ask that of you…” he murmured, the sound barely breaking the silence.

She shook her head as she took a step closer. “You aren’t asking. I’m offering.”

His fingers flexed around air as he continued to stare down at her. His hard gaze had shattered and in its remains was something that took her breath away.

Bellamy held her captive for several long seconds before he broke the connection, reaching down to seal his pack. “Then we tell Miller’s dad to clear out to Polis with anyone who wants to go.”

“And then west,” she added.

He looked down at her again, the depth of emotion behind his dark stare shuddering through her. “Then we go west.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated Clarke having a full out argument with Jasper and confronting Harper here. I even played with her not letting them stay, but the Clarke I'm writing (which may not synch with the show's interpretation) is tired of controlling the fate of the world, including her friends. Here, she's trusting Roan to get it done and she's not fighting on all fronts anymore. That's my decision and it certainly doesn't have to be a view anyone agrees with. Hah.
> 
> As for Bellamy, I feel like his time with Jasper has made an impression, at least for the time being. Plus, I feel Octavia will always be more important than anything else for him. Also, just my take on things again.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and sticking with me even if I've been gone a full year (never, ever become a high school teacher in an urban school with no disciplinary system in place for your first year of teaching). Love you all!


	3. A Journey

 

The conversation with Miller’s dad was short, but painful. None of them felt good about the decision to let so many Arcadians remain, but none of them were willing to force them toward salvation either. The drive toward the village Bellamy had pointed to on one of the maps was slow going as dusk fell and visibility steadily deteriorated.

They hadn’t spoken much after throwing their packs in the back and taking one long look back at Aracadia. Clarke didn’t know about Bellamy, but she’d felt in her bones that they would never return. So she’d knelt to touch the ground, so bloody and haunted. Staring out over the muddy landscape she could still see the pillar with Finn tied to it; could still feel the regret in Lexa’s eyes as she watched Clarke twist the knife into his heart, could still hear the echoes of Emerson within Arcadia’s walls. She had never found happiness here and perhaps it was a relief to finally be free of it.

If Bellamy had felt any regret leaving Arcadia, for it definitely had been more home for him than her, he hadn’t shown it. So now, as the light finally died, they slowly continued west, the only sound the squelch of mud under the tires and the steady hum of the engine. The trees had changed from lush green to a haunting sway of shadow beyond the window. Clark had no idea how Bellamy could see well enough to navigate past the constant smattering of trunks and boulders.

She hugged her legs up in front of her, resting her chin on her knees. She could feel the weight of Bellamy’s stare on her, but she kept her attention forward, squinting against the consuming darkness. Eventually the prickle of his attention faded from her skin and she allowed herself to doze as the rover swayed gently back and forth.

When Clarke woke, dawn was breaking over the horizon and the rover was stopped in a copse of trees. She studied Bellamy in the breaking dawn. He was slumped against the rover door, his neck crooked at an angle that looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, his breath came evenly and his relaxed features made him look years younger. She could almost see the boy he’d once been before they’d landed and the Earth had taken their souls. Her fingers itched to draw him, to capture this precious moment. He was so much to her. Her need for him, her love for him, it didn’t fit into any category. She simply couldn’t imagine, didn’t want to, a world without him in it.

As if sensing her intense scrutiny, he shifted, his features tightening as reality flooded back to him. His impossibly long lashes brushed against his freckled skin as he blinked across at her. “Dawn already?”

His voice was gravely, sending vibrations through her. Ignoring the sensation, she shifted in her seat. “Dawn,” she confirmed, pulling the discarded map from the rover floor at her feet. “Where did we stop?”

Bellamy rolled his shoulders, sculpted chest and biceps pulling at his shirt, before reaching over to take the map. His eyes narrowed for a moment before he pointed to a spot on the map that was close to the star they’d put on their destination the day before. So they’d make it to the village before noon. Five days left until… she shook her head. No point worrying about what she couldn’t control.

“I don’t know about you,” Bellamy cut into her brooding, “But I could stretch my legs and…” he trailed off.

Clarke couldn’t help the smile that traced her lips. “I could use a bathroom break too.”

He nodded gratefully, before hopping down from the rover and stretching more fully in the bright light. The storm had passed during the night and there was no sign of black rain on the horizon. Small miracles, Clarke mused, as she moved around the tall pines, searching for a spot of privacy.

Bellamy was already at the rover when she returned. His bronze skin glowed in the warm morning light as he cleared debris from the rover’s solar panels. His gaze slid to her. “Ready to head out?”

She nodded, pulling open her door and settling into the passenger seat. He joined her a minute later, the rover roaring to life. Clarke pointed to a stream they could see beyond the trees. “I think the village is probably along the stream, so maybe if we follow it…”

“… we’ll get there faster.” He nodded, approval shining in his dark eyes. “Good plan. You sleep well? You didn’t wake up when I stopped last night.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. Despite the lavish extravagance of Becca’s island research lab, she hadn’t been able to sleep soundly in ages.

His dark eyes hovered on her face for a moment longer, but then he was steering the rover toward the stream bed and her nerves settled.

“You have any idea what you’re going to say to her?” she queried as he made the turn to follow the waters.

He was silent long enough she wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but finally he spoke, his voice raw, “I think I’ll tell her I don’t want to spend the end of the world without her. I have no idea if she’ll ever forgive me, not anymore, but it doesn’t matter if we get to be together at the end.”

“You won’t try to bring her to Polis? We have the time.” Barely. They barely had the time. The village was at least two days from Polis and if she’d been keeping track of days correctly, they only had five left before the wave of radiation Raven had been tracking arrived.

“Only if she wants to.” He sighed, the sound as world weary as she felt. “I’m tired to trying to tell people what to do. Tired of…”

Clarke understood. There were so many things she was tired of fighting. Hell, she was even tired of saving. The whole damn world had been on her shoulders for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to be alive. Her nights were normally so wracked with guilt that she could barely sleep. The previous night in the rover had been an exception, perhaps the first time she had truly slept in weeks. Maybe it would be a relief if the end of the world came and she wasn’t in that bunker. Maybe the weight would finally slip away from her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

She glanced over at Bellamy, but his eyes were tracing their track along the stream. “For what?”

Bellamy’s throat worked silently for a long moment before he slid his eyes to meet hers. She drowned in the warm brown. “For being there, for believing in me when I couldn’t. I don’t know, Clarke. For everything.”

She understood what he couldn’t articulate. They had saved each other more times than she could count. “Thank you… I couldn’t have done any of it without you. Not from that first day on the ground, however much you wanted to chop my arm off.”

He winced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I knew from the moment in the woods with Atom that you weren’t a killer,” she assured. “And seriously, we’re a little past that, don’t you think?”

Whatever light had entered his eyes was snuffed out as she spoke. She bit her lip, twisting to look out the window. He hadn’t been a killer then, but she knew what he’d done since. Knew that her words were salt on the wound.

“Sorry, I –“

“Don’t,” he warned, his hands clenching the wheel. “Clarke, don’t fucking apologize. I know, okay, and I have to live with it, but I don’t need your pity.”

Now her hands were clawing at the seat. “It isn’t pity!” she exploded, her voice more shrill than she’d intended. “It isn’t. I have done equally reprehensible things. You know I have. We have.”

His lips twisted into a sneer that ate at her heart. “Together? Sure, we’ve done some really fucked up shit, but you don’t get to take ownership of all my sins. Some are mine alone.”

The fight drained out of her as she met his burning glare. He was right, of course, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Clarke slumped back against the seat. “I just want to be free of it, Bellamy. I just want to be free,” she admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper.

The anger slipped from his face, his features melting into something infinitely worse. “I know.”

They didn’t speak for a long time after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but chapters aren't all equal.
> 
> Love to you all,  
> TCP


	4. An Encounter

The sun was high in the sky by the time the rover rolled to a stop before a fence surrounding a modest dwelling. Octavia’s horse, Helios, was meandering through the pasture on the other side of the fence. Clarke’s stomach back flipped as she vaulted out of the rover. She’d trusted Bellamy, believed in his quest, but she hadn’t quite been able to believe they would find her until now. Adrenaline rushing through her, she hopped the fence and surged across the field, barely noticing Bellamy racing at her side. Helios ignored their mad dash, continuing to chew the long grasses.

“Octavia!” Bellamy’s bellowed cry soared across the silent valley, echoing off the mountains beyond.

An instant later Octavia emerged from the house, her expression closeted as she regarded Clarke and her brother racing toward her. They stopped a handful of feet from her, Bellamy clearly using serious restraint to keep from crushing his sister to him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bell?” Her eyes flashed, but not with malice. As Clarke surveyed her, she noticed a distinct lack of weapons adorning the former Skairippa.

Bellamy seemed to have noticed the change as well. A smile tugged on the corners of his lips. “It’s the end of the world, or haven’t you heard?”

Octavia’s expression softened a hair. “Which really begs the question, what the hell are you doing here?”

Bellamy swallowed, all signs of mirth fading. “It’s the end of the world and you’re my sister.”

Whatever Octavia had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes drinking in her brother before she turned to Clarke. “And what about you?”

It was a better question. Bellamy had come to find his family, but Clarke had left her mother. Still, she stood by what she’d told Bellamy earlier. He was her family, and by extension, so was Octavia. “I wasn’t about to leave him alone at the end of the world.”

Something approaching respect flashed through Octavia’s eyes. She turned her attention back to her brother. Her hands wrung together for a moment, the only sign that a stone cold killer wasn’t facing them. Finally, she murmured, “we have a lot to talk about.”

Bellamy took a hopeful step toward her, his expression pulling at Clarke’s heart strings. Octavia’s eyes were warm as she held out a hand to him, leading them toward the house. As they reached the entrance, a large figure loomed in the doorway, causing Bellamy to pull up short, Clarke nearly running into his tense back.

Ilian stood before them, his broad frame filling the doorway completely. Clarke clasped at Bellamy’s arm, holding him back or keeping herself steady she didn’t know. Maybe both. She could feel him tensing against her grip, the violence rising in him. Octavia stepped quickly between her brother and her unexpected companion.

“You don’t get to judge,” she said, shoulders squared and eyes full of steel. Bellamy tensed further under Clarke’s desperate grip. For a moment Clarke was sure it would come to blows, but then Bellamy let out a deep sigh and the tension washed away.

He nodded politely, if not warmly, to Ilian. “I’m not judging. Just surprised.”

Octavia’s shoulders relaxed and she ushered them through the door. The interior of the house smelled like dust and heavy spices. It reminded Clarke of the kitchens in Polis. There were barely any furnishings, just a pile of furs in the corner for a bed and a low table with benches on either side. Octavia leaned against a corner of the table and crossed her arms.

“So now what, big brother? Have you found a solution to the end of the world yet?” She only looked mildly interested in their answer as she traced patterns on the dusty floor with her bare feet.

Bellamy glanced at Clarke, deferring to her. She sighed and turned back to Octavia. “We have a solution, but it won’t work for everyone. Kane and Jaha found a bunker under the temple in Polis. It looks like it was part of that crazy cult Jaha was on about earlier. Only this time the bunker looks like it’s actually radiation proof.”

“And the nightblood?”

Black blood smeared across glass closed in around her. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in gasps until Bellamy’s firm hand tightened on her shoulder, pulling her back to the present. His eyes studied her for a long moment before he spoke. “No successful tests to date.”

Octavia eyes narrowed, but she merely asked, “So how long do we have?”

“Five days, maybe six since we’re so far west,” Clarke murmured.

“So you came to bring us back to the bunker?” Her focus shifted to her brother as she finished the question.

Bellamy shook his head, his hand still firmly clasping Clarke’s shoulder. “No. We’ll take you if you want, but only if you want to.”

Octavia pushed away from the table her eyes drilling holes through Clarke as she circled them. Bellamy hand tightened, a frown tracing his lips. Octavia’s eyes flickered toward her brother for an instant before she stopped in front of Clarke. “There’s something you still haven’t told us.”

Clarke didn’t bother to contradict her. Pulling away from Bellamy, she moved toward the doorway, murmuring, “Give me a second.”

Bellamy’s eyes stayed locked on her until she was back in the field, crossing back to the rover. She pulled her pack from the back, opening it and digging through until her hands closed on the hard case. She walked slowly back, her breath caught in her throat. No one, not even Ilian, had moved when she returned. She did her best to ignore the burn of Bellamy’s stare as she set the case on the table and snapped it open.

“Is that…” Octavia trailed off, her eyes cutting toward Clarke in silent question.

Clarke nodded. “Yes. It’s bone marrow. When injected it creates a nightblood.”

Bellamy strode to the table, his eyes scorching her across the room. “Why?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know. We don’t know it doesn’t work.”

She wasn’t sure why she’d packed the remaining nightblood marrow samples into the case when she left the island. She’d just felt that they hadn’t proved it didn’t work and that if there was even the slightest chance it could work, then they owed it to themselves to at least bring it with them into the new world. Now, though, she understood she didn’t want to return to the bunker, to that horrible new world. She didn’t want to leave the feeling of sun on her face behind forever. Maybe the nightblood truly worked. Maybe she would bet her life on that.

“All you have to do is inject yourself?” Octavia eyed the dark syringes with a glimmer in her eyes that had Clarke’s stomach turning.

“O,” Bellamy breathed, staring at her with desperate eyes. “O, we don’t know it works.”

Octavia held out a syringe to Clarke. “We don’t know it doesn’t.”

Clarke could feel Bellamy staring at her, his eyes begging her to stop, but she forced herself forward. Hands shaking she took the marrow from Octavia and reached in the case for an alcohol wipe. Octavia lifted her arm and Clarke swabbed across it. Then she was emptying the black marrow into Octavia, the dark girl barely flinching at the invasion.

The betrayal that shone in Bellamy’s eyes was too much as she let the syringe fall to the ground. Then her feet were moving, out of the house, past the field, beyond the rover. Her eyes stung, but she kept moving until her legs gave out and she sagged against the base of a great pine tree. Sobs, so long suppressed, finally shattered through her facade. Lips trembling and soul wrenching, she surrendered herself to the clear skies above.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am of the opinion that Octavia isn't going into a metal/brick/whatever cage ever again. So yeah. Also short, sorry, this one is a bit front loaded.
> 
> Love you all so much! Thanks for reading!


	5. A Union

Dusk shadowed the distant hills when Clarke finally came back to herself. Her legs ached and her face was numb as the cool breeze caressed her cheeks. She tilted sideways, the world spinning as she fell upon her back on a blanket of pine needles. She knew she should crawl to her feet, return to the hut before the night, before the next storm, but she couldn’t find the energy, the will. So she stayed, staring at the sky as blue faded to black.

The crunch of footsteps met her ears, but she didn’t move. Finally the snapping twigs ceased and Bellamy knelt beside her. His eyes no longer burned with accusation, but she still couldn’t face the emotion in their fathomless depths.

They sat silently, motionless as the world faded to black. Finally, Bellamy spoke. “Ilian took the marrow too. I think they’re going to stay here and hope it’s good enough.”

The information didn’t surprise her. She couldn’t imagine Octavia being willingly caged again, not if there was another solution, however long a shot it might be. Her tongue was dry, mouth unused as she whispered, “And you?”

He unhooked a hunting knife from his belt, running it across the palm of his hand before Clarke could register what he was doing. Even in the dusk she knew the blood that ran from his palm wasn’t red. Her chest tightened, her heard pounding in her ears.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to leave you alone at the end of the world.”

She swallowed thickly, rising to kneel across from him. She took his hand in hers, the black blood smearing across her skin as she caressed him.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know you’re not going back. I think I figured out the minute I saw this blood on your lips. And I…” he paused, his jaw working and his eyes threatening to devour her. “I couldn’t let you do it on your own.”

“Our people…”

“Can save their own asses this time, Clarke. They have Jaha, Kane and Roan.” He sighed, sitting back and pulling her with him until she was sprawled on the ground beside him, their eyes tracing the paths of the stars.

“It may not work.”

He turned his head to face her, his eyes glowing in the starlight. “I know.”

“Why?” She could barely breathe with the way he was looking at her, the way the moonlight caressed panes of his face, the warmth of his breath ghosting across her face.

He licked his lips and her eyes followed the path of his tongue, entranced. She’d never looked at him like this or maybe she’d never let herself look at him like this. His eyes held her captive, promising more than she could ever imagine. “I never got to tell you that day you went to island….”

She swallowed, remembering the look on his face as she’d insisted they’d meet again. “What did you…”

“I don’t know how to say it, Clarke,” he breathed. “I don’t think there are words for what you mean to me.”

She knew the feeling, had never quite been able to label what he was to her. And now, his dark eyes raw and pleading, she couldn’t even begin to articulate the bond between them. She managed to whisper, “I know.”

Bellamy shifted minutely closer, his freckles replacing the constellations of the sky. “It doesn’t mean… we don’t have to…” He sighed, his breath blanketing her. “I know you probably don’t see us that way and honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. It changes–“

She stared back at him, the universe beginning and ending in an instant, as the words tumbled out of her, cutting him off. “No. I want to.”

Then his lips were on hers, capturing her, tearing her soul apart and remaking her. She’d never dreamt of this, never even imagined what he could do to her. She sighed into his mouth, lips parting as his tongue teased the seam of her lips. Her head was spinning, her heart singing as he pulled her over him. Her hands grasped at the hard muscle beneath his shirt as his hands settled over her ass, pressing her hard against him. She moaned at the contact, fingers finally grasping the hem of his shirt and prying it over his head.

Their lips only broke for an instant before he was plundering her mouth again, drinking up her sighs and moans. Clarke let her fingers splay across the firm muscles of abdomen, savoring the twitching skin beneath her caresses. A wicked grin split her lips as she broke from his full lips to trace the curve of his jaw to the straining muscles of his neck. Her teeth nipping and tongue soothing, he moaned against her, the sound wanton. Heat pooled at the base of her spine.

His calloused hands worked desperately to free her of her sweater, then her shirt. She gasped at the feel of his hands on her skin, dipping below the waist of her pants. Clarke made quick work of his belt and then the fastenings of his cargo pants. His fingers worked with equal enthusiasm to divest her of the black pants, their boots flung in all directions.

Suddenly their underwear was the only thing between them. Bellamy pulled back, sighing as her hand whispered over his skin. His eyes were luminous as they stared up at her. “Are you sure? This isn’t just an end of the world pity thing?”

Clarke resisted slapping him. “Does this feel like an end of the world pity thing?” She let the hunger she felt bleed through as she stared down at him, the cool night breeze sending goosebumps down her spine. Or maybe it was the look of utter devastation etched on his face as he brought her crashing down to him.

When he finally entered her, the world stood still. The stars’ light pausing for a moment as she gasped, freedom shuddering through her. They moved together, so easily, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. This wasn’t lust, or even love, it was something so deep, so raw it made her anew. As they crashed over the edge together, the stars fell around her.

Breathing ragged, Clark shifted to lie beside him, settling on his discarded shirt. Bellamy’s chest rose and fell in time with hers. She sighed, a sound of total contentment instead of weary acceptance.

A shooting star dashed across the sky. “Make a wish,” she murmured.

His eyes followed the star until it fizzled into nothing. “At least I know what to wish for this time.”

Clarke’s breathing settled back to normal as she lay against him, counting the beats of his heart beneath her cheek. Her eyes caught on the black blood dried against his palm. Tightness pulled at her chest again. She could never thank him enough, love him enough for what he had done.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter, maybe in five days the world would be over. She watched the stars above twinkle down at them. Or maybe it wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, thanks so much for reading! <3


	6. A Beginning and an End

Finally the chill of the night forced them to gather their clothes and return to Illian’s farm. Clarke eyes traced Bellamy’s moonlit profile, his shoulders relaxed, the tension drained from his broad frame. She trailed a hand down his bare arm, his skin warm despite the night chill.

He cocked his head toward her, his eyes filled with starlight and promise. His voice was deep, an echo through her soul, as he murmured, “No regrets?”

She shook her head. “No regrets.”

His teeth worried his lip, eyes darkening as he paused. The forest loomed around them, the trees leaning closer, the breeze rustling through the leaves.

“Are we really doing this?” he murmured, his dark eyes so full of hope and terror. “Are none of us going back to Polis?”

Clarke had thought it, had felt it in her bones, had known her own decision, but hearing the words made it seem impossible, absurd, real. There was no turning around now, not for her. The east was her past and nothing but ashes and bones remained. So she’d come west, to a new land, to a corner of the Earth she hadn’t yet scorched.

Was she dooming Bellamy to a death more horrific that any she’d seen already on this cursed ground? Could she live with herself if the nightblood didn’t work? Clarke hadn’t allowed herself to think the questions, to face the overwhelming doubt that led them back to Polis. He’d proved he’d give everything for her time and again, would she only reward him with death?

He moved closer, the warmth of him disrupting her rising dread. “Clarke,” his warm hands framed her face, his now familiar fingers tracing gentle patterns on her skin. “If Octavia isn’t going in that bunker, neither am I. This is my choice.”

“But–“

“But nothing. You made your choice and now I’ve made mine.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t think I’d go back to that Bunker even if there wasn’t any more nightblood.”

Clarke’s breathing hitched, the reality of their choice bearing down upon her. Because he was right. Even if a cure didn’t flow through her veins, she was done, so exhausted, so tired of being twisted into a monster. Perhaps this was the atonement she’d been so terrified she’d never find. Perhaps there was no atonement.

She nodded, clasping his hand as they continued through the woods. “I wish them the best. I wish I had the strength to be with them…”

His fingers tightened around hers. “We’re only human, Clarke.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the crackle of broken twigs and crunch of dead needles their only companions. The moon fell past the horizon, leaving only starlight to ferry them home. Clarke traced the path of falling stars, each wish closer to a prayer than the last.

The fire in the hovel still crackled as they made their way through the door. Ilian and Octavia were curled together in the corner, chests rising and falling gently. A set of furs had been pushed to the opposite corner of the room and Bellamy led her to them, his eyes warm chocolate in the flicking light.

They settled into the furs quietly, Bellamy curling himself around her frame, his arm burning a line across her chest as he pulled her to him. She breathed in the sent of him, musky with a hint of crushed pine. Clarke traced the shadows of his curls flickering in the firelight as she relaxed against him. A hum of approval vibrated through him and she smiled, holding on to the moment as long as she could.

 

~*~

 

Four days later, a storm came. The clouds billowed, cruel gray closing in on the bucolic valley. The rain hissed against the leaves and Helios fled to the barn. They knew it was black rain, but the mud roof held and Helios was back in the pasture by the afternoon.

Clarke sat on the wooden fence, facing the setting sun. The breeze was gentle, the air crisp and clean. Bellamy leaned beside her, his elbows propped on the top rail.

“So… one more day.”

He didn’t need to explain what he was talking about. If Raven’s calculations were right, the radiation would arrive in the next day and a half and then, Helios would need more than a barn.

She nodded, teeth worrying her bottom lip. “One more day.”

The last rays of sun cut across the valley, the sky on fire above the mountains. She took a deep breath, savoring the air flowing through her. Perhaps this is what it had felt like before. Maybe some of them had known what was coming, accepted their fate.

For the past few days she’d felt a peace that had long eluded her. Without the constant need to defy death, to save that which could not be saved, she was free. Each step was full of wonder, each day an exploration. Clarke’s eyes shifted to the man beside her, the answer to her soul. They’d learned everything they could about each other, explored mind and body until he was extension of her. She could read the smallest twitch of his eye, the faintest smile on his full lips. Every touch was a salvation, a promise, a freedom.

“Tell me a story.” Clarke loved to hear his voice, the timbre of it sending thrilling vibrations down her spine.

“Which one do you want to hear?” He’d told her stories of gods and goddesses, of emperors and kings. All the stories he’d told Octavia on the Ark and more he’d learned on the ground.

She sighed, winding her fingers through his. “Tell me a new one…”

Bellamy shifted, arms wrapping around her waist, warm breath ghosting over her neck as he stared at the dying light beyond. “Once upon a time there were a hundred brave children sent down from the sky…”

She tensed against him, but he continued, “There was a strong Princess with a heart full of compassion and a will of steel. There was a prince, warm and kind. With them, there was a boy who had hid away to save his sister, but he had done a terrible thing to follow them from the stars. The brave princess knew what he had done and instead of casting him out, she believed in him, asked him to help lead their people. Even so, terrible things happened to all of them. The prince was murdered and the land they’d taken for their own already belonged to others.”

He took a breath, his arms tightening around her. “But the brave princess and the boy she’d saved fought for their people. They faced many challenges, different foes, but they always stayed strong. Even when it seemed they were destined to fail, they worked together and found a way until it wasn’t an enemy that they faced, but the world itself. But they stayed strong and faced the world together.”

Clarke swiped at the moisture clinging to her cheeks. “And they lived happily ever after.”

Bellamy pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, murmuring, “happily ever after.”

The first stars appeared in the sky above, glittering down upon them as thunder rolled in the east.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all so much. Thank you for reading.


End file.
